Daddy Dearest
by Ancolie
Summary: There's nothing like a day of Dursley family bonding to warm your heart. Well, unless you have to take two screaming boys to an amusement park. Featuring Dursley! Harry.


**Daddy Dearest  
**

There's nothing like a day of Dursley family bonding to warm your heart! Featuring Dursley! Harry.

Harry Potter belongs to JKR. As if you didn't know that. ;)

* * *

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley, of number four, Privet Drive, were proud to say they were perfectly normal, thank you very much, even after the events of autumn 1981, a time Mr. Dursley was loathe to remember.

After all, he had lost the contract with the Malaysian export firm in September, which was a blow to Grunning's stock earnings. In October, Dudley had gotten the croup and made a right mess of Petunia's nerves. But on a blustery morning, the first of November, came the biggest misfortune of all, in the form of a small bundle left carelessly on the doorstep.

"What sort of nutter leaves a kid wrapped in a blanket on the front steps?" He muttered as he remembered that day painfully. "Wouldn't expect anything less from their lot. No sense of duty, of social right…"

But of course, it had all worked out for the better, and that thought warmed his heart as he bustled into the front door that hot July day.

"Vernon," came a shrill cry from the parlor, "You should have been home ten minutes ago! The boys have been waiting!"

Vernon Dursley grumbled under his breath. He left his briefcase near the front door and waddled into the living room.

"DAD!!" cried an angry voice.

"DAD!!" shrieked a nearly identical one.

Vernon sighed as Petunia tapped her foot, glaring at the two child-shaped masses of pink flesh nestled on the sofa. "Now, now, Daddy's about to take you."

Petunia whirled around and faced Vernon, livid. "You've been promising them for weeks you'd take them to Bobbleland."

Vernon cursed his misfortune. He couldn't abide having to spend the rest of the day with his sons, and their incessant whining, while running around an amusement park that smelled of vomit and sticky sweetness.

"Right you are, Petunia, but wouldn't you like to come?"

She threw her head back and laughed as their two sons thundered over. "No, I think I'll just make me a nice pot of tea. Maybe even bake some muffins. Watch my soap opera."

She smiled broadly, showing her gums. Vernon wilted.

Score one, Mrs. Dursley.

* * *

"DAD!" The larger of the two boys bellowed. "I'm hungry!"

"Dudley, be quite, Harry's not done with the shooting gallery," Vernon said, holding his forehead in his hand. He had a pounding migraine.

Harry, a stocky boy with messy black hair and glasses jammed onto his sweaty pink face, was currently taking aim with a BB gun. Shooting, he missed the target completely, blowing the eye off a stuffed animal. "DAMN!!"

"DAD, I'm hungry, can we go now?!"

Vernon huffed impatiently, his large face getting flustered. He grabbed Harry by his fat wrist. "Come on, boy, let's go, your brother is hungry."

Harry pouted, narrowing his eyes at Vernon. "You SAID I could keep shooting 'till I got it!!"

"DAD, I'M HUNGRY!!!"

"Shut UP, both of you!!!" Vernon cried, tugging Harry away from the game and wincing at the pain in his head. "If you don't stop whining, we're going home!!"

Dudley burst into tears. Harry punched him in the shoulder. "It's all your faulty, stupid!"

The other boy's crying only got louder. "I WANT A BOBBLEBURGER!!"

"FINE!!" Vernon cried, throwing his hands in the air. "We'll eat, for Chrissakes!"

* * *

Vernon heaved his bulk into the tiny plastic booth at the snack bar. Like all tiny plastic booths, it didn't come close to fitting him, leaving his beefy legs and protruding stomach to suffer. On the opposite side of the table, the two boys were angrily tussling over the menu.

"I want it!"

"No, I want it!"

"NO, I WANT IT!!"

"GIVE IT TO ME!!!!!!"

"Boys," Vernon said weakly, massaging his temple. "Just get a junior BobbleBurger, Daddy doesn't have much money."

"I want a knickerboxer delight!"

"ME TOO!!"

"You can share," he sighed.

The two boys both burst into tears, their chubby pink faces scrunched up.

Vernon laid his head on the table best he could, attempting not to burst into tears as well.

* * *

That night, after the horrid day was over and the boys were asleep, he lay in bed next to Petunia.

She was reading a magazine, her hair set in large pink curlers.

He sighed greatly. "It was horrible, Petunia, dear, they wouldn't shut up. And my head felt like it would split in two. Dudley got stuck on a roller coaster, did I tell you? They couldn't get him out after the ride was over, he was wedged in too tight. And Harry, dear god, the boy nearly assaulted the man who ran the shooting gallery. Swore he'd shoot his head off if he could, but he and I both know he can't aim worth a damn…"

Petunia patted her husband on his round stomach. "Oh, love, at least it was just a day. Won't it be nice to have them both off at Smeltings?"

Vernon smiled. "I suppose it will, darling. No one to complain, or break things, or run around berserk screaming about how they didn't get this or that…"

She giggled and put her magazine down, snuggling up against him.

He sighed deeply though, a frown hovering on his face. "Are you sure we did the right thing, Tuney?"

She tensed. "Whatever do you mean, dear?"

"Oh, you know what I mean… keeping the boy. Wouldn't Dudders have been happier as an only child? Wouldn't it have been easier?"

Petunia made a scandalized gasp. "Of course not! I wouldn't trade my little Harry-Warry for the whole wide world!"

"I guess you're right, it's just…"

"Just?" She said, narrowing her already beady eyes.

"What if he ends up like _them_?"

"Now you're just talking nonsense, Vernon. Good night."

And with a huff she turned out the light.

* * *

"DAD!!! MUM!!!"

The cry woke Vernon as easily as a bucket of cold water. Petunia stirred next to him, perking her head up. "What do they want _now_?!"

A few seconds later, Harry burst through the door, waving a letter in the air. It had clearly been ripped and opened. He fixed them with a petulant look.

"Who's Harry Potter? And what the HELL is Hogwarts?!"

* * *

_Fin_


End file.
